


Bubble Baths & Sandwiches

by catvampcrazines



Series: Imagine Pydia [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Pydia, slightly!future Pydia, who gave you the right to cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3085361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catvampcrazines/pseuds/catvampcrazines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter’s having a cranky day. Not full-out RAWR cranky, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubble Baths & Sandwiches

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! Thank cheeky-blonde-king for all the fluffy feels I was stuck with from an art edit.

Peter’s having a cranky day. Not full-out RAWR cranky, but one of those days where people are barely noticing him. It’s unsettling and brings back older feelings that he’d like to shake.

It’s been a long session of planning in Derek’s loft and the group breaks in the meager hopes that they’ll find food in the cupboards. All that they find is Peter’s food and Derek’s protein powder along with an impressive array of take-out menus.

When they go for Peter’s food, he gives them a  _hell no_.

While everyone’s on their cell phones, ordering, Lydia wanders over to him, saying thanks to the person on the other end of the line before hanging up.

She searches Peter’s eyes, his expression, the side of her mouth stretching to one side, an extension of how unpleased she is to see his crossed arms as he narrowly avoids running away. Peter can’t even hide the mixture of vaguely haunted and grumpy coming off of him, so he only tightens his arms stubbornly.

Finally, she opens her mouth and he barely holds in a sigh over whatever sass is approaching.

"You need a bubble bath."

He’d not been expecting  _that_.

He’s not sure what to say, his mouth parting as his expression strains for sarcastic, but mostly achieves puzzled.

Lydia appears unsure for a moment, then she’s nodding as she sees his stance relax oh-so-slightly—nods like the beauty and life guru she’d like to get back to being some day. (For now, she’s a busy banshee, who occasionally has to be satisfied with a messy up-do, thankful for waterproof mascara and whatever tube of lipstick she’s thrown in her purse.)

"Yup. Just trust me, okay? You trust me with other things _._  When this night is over, pour yourself a nice bubble bath. Let the hot water sink in and all that crankiness ease away.” She does a few wavy motions with her hands as she speaks. “Play some music that you enjoy and turn down the lights—” she abruptly stops, perhaps a little bit embarrassed at what she’s talking about and to whom, but she covers it after a beat. “Now go find yourself something to eat.” End of discussion. It’s an order, not a suggestion, with an extra side of confident hair flicking as she turns toward where everyone is restlessly standing and chatting, waiting for their food.

Peter swallows, wondering exactly what the hell just happened and somewhat dazedly collecting fixings for a damn-good sandwich, water, adding a couple dill pickles to his plate as well. 

When Lydia silently wanders near to check out what Peter’s put together, she nods in approval. She’s about to move away, however, he keeps her there, two fingers hooked at her elbow as he stares up at the ceiling. A beat. Another beat. His mouth moves as little as possible as he mutters, “ _I don’t. own. bubble bath._ ”

There’s no way that escaped the earshot of the other wolves in the room, but he’ll pretend it did. Lydia rather obviously forces down a soft giggle with a clear of her throat and suddenly Peter’s struggling to hide a smirk.

"Then, go to the store," she sasses, recovering in style. She squints at him right after she says it, probably questioning his capability to pick out a good brand—which is offensive. More likely a scenario, he’d be unable to find anything to suit his more expensive taste at such a late hour.

_He’d abandon the plan if he didn’t find anything he liked._

Peter feels semi-relieved, maybe a tad victorious, at ultimate control being on his side—which has him shaking his head at himself because Lydia Martin could not  _force him_  to take a  _bubble bath_  if he didn’t want to either wa _y_.

Lydia shakes her head too, tilting her chin up and firmly obliterating any wiggle room Peter’d thought he’d had. “Never mind. I’ll bring something over.”

And there she was, walking away again, though not before grabbing a pickle from his plate.

He had a whole two seconds of grouching before nervousness began to blend into his overall mood for the day.

Peter took a sip of water to alleviate some of the dryness in his mouth, quietly avoiding curious gazes as he chewed his sandwich and digested. He did not blush slightly when Lydia circled around to claim the second pickle on his plate.

Her fee for helping him, she told him.

( **[♥](http://catvampcrazines.tumblr.com/tagged/myteenwolf)** )


End file.
